Much of my early life seems to be in this old picture postcard. My father worked at the factory on the left; for a time I worked in the mill on the right. My school is on the horizon, my youth on the soot-coated streets around the market.
This rather chubby baby was the first photograph in one of my parent's photograph albums. Theoretically it should be either me or my brother, but it looks nothing like Roger, and I have never been that fat. I tried facial recognition: Lightroom suggested it was my son, whilst Google suggested that it was Princess Alix … Continue reading The Fat Tummy Of Princess Alix
I took this photograph of Shaw Lodge Mills in Halifax in the early 1980s. Then it was dark and rather satanic, now it seems to have a new lease of life with shops, galleries and offices. It's nice to see regeneration at work.
Postcards From Home : Southgate and Town Hall, Halifax Mock-marble Burtons; the line of Armstrong Siddeleys outside the White Swan; polished pianos in Pohlmann's window: Halifax as I almost remember it if I let my imaginations stretch back far enough.
I must have taken this photograph of Halifax Piece Hall in the late 1970s: a period when the building was host to a rather shabby market and a flock of cold, empty, stone rooms.
Unknown Man Up A Mountain (1930s) I won't be around next week, I'm going to ski down a mountain. To be accurate, I am going to sit at the bottom of a mountain looking after t'grandson whilst his parents ski down a mountain. To be even more accurate, I am going to sup a cold … Continue reading Gone Skiing, Gone Supping
We had a meal out at the Old Bridge Inn, Ripponden last night. Lovely pub, glorious food and drink, and special friends. I could have got lyrical about it, but then I realised I did 9 years ago. Here's what I wrote then:- Imagine the scene. You are walking through a West Yorkshire village. The … Continue reading Getting Lyrical About The Old Bridge
North Bridge, Halifax (1905) This old postcard features a view of North Bridge, Halifax which must have been taken in the first decade of the twentieth century. The building on the left of the photograph is still there but the one on the right, the old Grand Theatre, is long gone. The theatre was built … Continue reading A Halifax Melodrama
Old age is a wonderful thing. It's a time when you need no excuses, when you can turn pointless time wasting into a passionate vocation. It's a time when you can dedicate most of the morning to scanning an Edwardian penny for no other reason than "it was there".